


A Path Divergent

by fencer_x



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Splash Free, M/M, Masturbation, Reality Bending, Universe slipping, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 17:44:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14313879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencer_x/pseuds/fencer_x
Summary: Haruka only wanted a nice soak, but instead he gets saddled with caring for a Rin who's tumbled into his universe from an alternate reality where they have a very different relationship than Haruka is accustomed to.





	A Path Divergent

Haruka liked to think he handled the other Rin’s initial appearance with remarkable grace.

He didn’t scream—even though he would’ve been perfectly within his rights to screech bloody murder at the sight of an uninvited and very nude guest popping up gasping for breath and flailing pathetically in the bathwater he’d just run. But he wasn’t Makoto, so he just froze, stiff, and waited for the stranger to catch his breath.

He didn’t run, either—though he did want to take a few steps back, maybe slam the door shut and slide it open again in the hopes that, for whatever reason, he was _dreaming_ Rin appearing out of thin air in his bath suite (and sloshing water all over the floor, leaving it pooling unused into the drain). But he wasn’t Rei, so he just clenched the doorframe white-knuckled and held his ground, sizing up the state of the bath he probably wouldn’t be able to take now. Perfect.

And he didn’t lash out in reflex—though there was a convenient mop in the hallway closet he could’ve easily knocked the intruder out with, and that might have earned him a few minutes to get his bearings. But he wasn’t Nagisa, so he steeled himself and tensed his muscles, ready to defend himself should the need arise.

Except the stranger had slicked his hair back away from his face now, mopping away the water dripping in his eyes and still breathing with labored inhalations but blinking blearily to take in his surroundings, and Haru had _seen_ this before—this was no new sight Rin was showing him—and recognized instantly that a stranger hadn't inexplicably wandered into his bathroom; just Rin.

His grip relaxed a fraction on the doorjamb, and he hunched his shoulders slightly as he peered in, wary but curious—because Samezuka's Saturday practices started promptly at 9, and it was nearly 10 now, and Rin preferred knocking or leaning on the doorbell to just wandering in like Makoto, so his sudden appearance in Haruka's bathtub was, to say the least, an anomaly.

His confusion was subsequently compounded when he took a moment to really _look_ at Rin—because since when had Rin been so _tan_? Not the pallid pink of a few days of open-water training, like the previous summer, but a faint bronze like he'd lived somewhere hot and arid for a considerably large portion of his life. And when he lifted a hand to push the hair from his eyes, bracing fingers in his roots, there was a faint jingle of metal striking metal and sunlight glinting off of a polished brass...something. Not a bracelet—more like a glove, with delicate filigree workings that encircled the wrist and reached over to connect to a band about his ring finger. He frowned to himself, recalling that Rin had a flair for fashion, though this seemed beyond even him. And taking a closer look at those fingers, was that _black nail polish_...?

So here was Rin, slumped over the side of Haruka's bath with chest and back heaving as he caught his breath, clad in what seemed nothing more than a bit of jewelry and bare skin on a frame that seemed more solid than Rin's lanky form, as if he'd spent a summer working the beet fields and rice paddies further inland. Something felt very wrong here, in the way Rin was taking too long to come around and how the air was saturated with a static buzz that made everything seem... _off_.

He swallowed thickly, squaring his jaw, and took one tentative step forward, hands raised in a defensive gesture. "...Rin...?"

This roused him some, and Rin's head snapped sharply in the direction of Haruka's voice, eyes clearly trying to focus on his face. "Haru...?" A bit raspy, as if from overuse, but Rin nonetheless, and Haruka heaved a mental sigh of relief, padding into the bathroom proper and reaching for a towel to spare Rin's modesty.

"What are you _doing_ in here? How did you get inside in the first place?" He shook the towel when Rin just sat there, stewing in the bathwater and staring at him. "Don't you have practice right now?"

Rin just blinked stupidly up at him, seeming to still be gathering his wits—wherever he'd lost them—and flinched back a bit when Haruka snapped the towel. "Ha...ru?"

Haruka's frown of irritation softened a hair into one of confusion; maybe Rin was having some kind of episode, or perhaps he'd sleepwalked here. It didn't explain where his clothes were, as the hamper was empty, nor did it explain the subtle changes Haruka was concerned he'd even noted, but it seemed the most logical explanation for the time being. He let the towel drop, draping it across his lap, and settled onto the bath stool, putting himself at level with Rin. "Are you feeling ill?" He raised a hand, intent on checking for a temperature, and this seemed to finally spark a reaction.

Rin snapped both hands out, gripping Haruka's wrist tight, and he held the hand up to marvel at it—or rather, to gape in confused, hurt shock. The metal jewelry adorning Rin's own arm was cool against Haruka's flesh, and Rin traced the fine veins and bones of Haruka's hand, as if mapping out where his own band might rest. Haruka let him do as he would for a few silent moments, and Rin must have either found what he'd been looking for or given up the search, for he relinquished Haruka's wrist and settled back down in the tub, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, oddly dejected and looking childish for it.

"Rin...?" he tried once more, at a loss, but Rin just shook his head.

"No..." he confessed into the crook of his knees, resignation thick in his voice. "Not the way you mean it, at least."

* * *

Rin wrinkled his nose, stretching out the Loosey-kun t-shirt Haruka had dug out for him. "...I hope you don't think I'm going to be seen in public wearing something like this..."

The tea tray clinked softly as Haruka set it on the floor between them, frowning at the suggestion. "It's...only sleepwear. Your own clothes have to be around here somewhere—I'm sure you didn't sleepwalk here nude."

Rin flinched as if struck. "Sleepwear? Why would you wear _anything_ to sleep in, let alone something this absurd?" He shuddered—then paused a moment in wary consideration. "...I didn't give this to you, did I?"

"Of course not," Haruka countered, sliding a cup of tea toward Rin when he didn't seem inclined to serve himself. "It's just...you always wear that one when you come over, so..." A shrug. "I guess it's kind of yours."

"I wear it—of my own _volition_?" Rin returned, disbelieving, but before Haruka could respond, he shook his head, muttered something under his breath, and reached for the tea, wincing at the first sip. "How can something be both bland _and_ bitter at the same time?"

"I—" Haruka glanced down at the teacup before him, baffled. "It's just _mugicha_..."

Rin waved him off, sighing long-sufferingly, and flopped back against the mattress of Haruka's bed, running fingers through his hair. "It's not your fault, I'm just not..."

"Rin...?" Haruka pressed, when no continuation came, and Rin nodded.

"Yes, not Rin."

Haruka felt like he was missing something, and so decided to start with the most obvious issue: "Why are you here?" He supposed he could have asked _Why were you in my bathroom_ , but that would hopefully resolve itself naturally if they could get to the root of _this_ question. "Aren't you supposed to be at practice right now?" It was nearly mid-winter, but the luxury of an indoor pool meant Samezuka's swim team never got a day off, and Captain Mikoshiba hadn't struck Haruka as the type to grant his members more than the mandatory Sunday off of club activities. Nor, he suspected, would Rin usually _want_ to miss a practice. "If you'd needed something, a simple phone call would have—"

"Haru—you're really fucking cute when you're confused, but I'm gonna need you to shut up for five minutes so I can figure out what's going on." And Haruka did, though more out of shock at the _gall_ than out of obedience. Rin closed his eyes and began a series of deep inhalations and slow exhalations, brows knitting in discomfort. At length, his lids fluttered open again, but the pained frustration on his features didn't move. "...Shit." He flicked his gaze up to meet Haruka's and pursed his lips, cursing again. "You _—dammit_ , Haru."

Haruka felt his limited patience growing thin, especially with the _tone_ Rin was taking now, and he snapped defensively, " _What_? You're the one who showed up here unannounced—and I'm _waiting_ for an answer as to why that was."

Rin's cheeks pinked the way they did when he knew he was in the wrong but had no intention of apologizing. "I 'showed up here unannounced' because you called me!"

His irritation was momentarily cooled by more confusion. "Called you? I haven't touched the phone all day."

Rin blinked, as if trying to process his words and clearly missing something, but he just shook his head to clear it. "No—I mean, you... _Called_ me. You know?" He held his hands up, palms facing, as if to clap, then swished them by each other and made a _whoosh_ ing noise. "You know, Called me? When y—" Haruka's lack of understanding must have shown in his wary expression, for Rin threw his hands up and huffed, "For the love of—don't you have Metaphysics here? Planar existence? The Multiverse?" The terms sounded foreign, and Haruka wondered if these were subjects Rin had studied in Sydney perhaps. Rin rubbed at his eyes when understanding clearly eluded Haruka, and groaned. "Whatever—forget it. Where is he, then?"

"He...?"

" _He_. The—other me. Your me. Your Rin."

And that was when Haruka decided that there was _definitely_ something in the water at Samezuka.

* * *

"—and _ideally_ , everyone's where they're supposed to be, one way or the other, or at least close enough that World Passage won't do more than leave you feeling a bit unsettled, maybe trigger some shared dreams that you can dismiss as flights of fancy. But you, jackass—" Rin poked a finely manicured finger right at Haruka's nose. "You've _screwed up_ somehow, and because you're not where you are, _I_ got jerked along to answer your Call!" He slumped back, bracing his hands behind him and groaning. "We were supposed to go to the shores this weekend—nearly _six weeks_ so far inland I almost forgot what the sea smelled like, and then it was supposed to be a month working out way up the coast."

Haruka let Rin's babbling wash over him, in one ear and out the other, as he struggled to come to terms with the fact that his friend had, in no uncertain terms, gone off the deep end—because for nearly a half hour now, Haruka had been sitting here listening to Rin drone on and on about Metaphysical Theory and how backwards this verse was that Haruka didn't even seem to be familiar with the very _basics_ of understanding how his world interacted with the other 'layers'. Now he was jumping from Calls to multiverses to somehow this being his own fault, and Haruka was quite done. He held up a hand, using the other to massage a temple. "Rin—I...I think maybe you need to go back to Samezuka. I can maybe have Makoto's father drive you, if you don't think you can make it back on your own." He frowned, taking in the outfit he'd had to dress Rin in himself. "You can give me back the shirt some other time."

"Go ba—" Rin started, then slapped the tatami between them. "Dammit, Haru, haven't you been listening to what I've been saying? You fucked this up—and maybe it's not so bad this time, 'cause it's me and my 'verse, and my Haru should know how to Call me back, but another close call if you're not where you're supposed to be, and..." He shook his head. "It might be _him_ next time. And then you'll _really_ be screwed."

Haruka didn't know who 'him' was, nor did he quite understand how he was supposed to know how to Call anyone, whatever that meant. He was, however, more than weary of this conversation and considering that perhaps knocking Rin out with the mop as he'd initially thought to do might not have been such a bad idea after all. "...I'll go call Makoto, see if his dad can give you a ride—" But as he moved to stand, Rin snapped a hand out and gripped him hard by the wrist once again, that chilly brass jewelry cool against his flesh. He frowned at the action, tugging. "Let me go."

"You don't believe me."

"I don't even _understand_ you," Haruka clarified. "Now let go. You ought to be resting back at your dorm. If you need me to explain to your Captain, I can—"

"Where is he?"

"Your captain?"

Rin huffed and rolled his eyes. "No, _him_. The—other me. Your Rin." Haruka just stared at him blankly; were you supposed to play along in situations like this, humor them? Or was it best to ensure the mentally ill had a sound foundation in reality grounding them?

He placed his fingers over Rin's, trying to pry them from his wrist. "You're—right here—in my roo—"

"I'm—dammit." He shoved the wrist away, seeming to consider something for a moment, then: "Where should I be? Right now. I'm not supposed to be here, yes? I'm meant to be somewhere else? You mentioned dormitories?"

Playing along it was, then. "...Samezuka. You've got Saturday practice, 9 to 3. You complain about it all the time. Loudly."

Rin just shrugged, clearly unconcerned with this slight against his character. "Then go and fetch me."

"Go and..."

"Fetch me," Rin nodded primly, pleased with himself. "You'll find me exactly where you expect, I'm sure, and then maybe we can start actually _getting_ somewhere." He stood and brushed imaginary dust from the pajama bottoms Haruka had insisted he don. "I'll come with you; I've always kinda enjoyed the look of 'dumbstruck awe' on you."

Haruka didn't appreciate the tone, but shuffled over to his bag to rummage through it for his phone all the same. He briefly entertained the idea of just texting Makoto to come over and help wrestle Rin into his father's car—but then, Makoto didn't deserve to deal with a fever-addled Rin just now. He then considered calling Nitori to see if Rin's roommate was even _aware_ that his sempai had wandered off to the other side of town, but he didn't have Nitori's number for one, nor did he really care to explain the situation to a total stranger for another. Something bumped his shoulder, and he turned his head just in time to nearly collide with Rin's nose as he leaned over Haruka's back to peer down at the cell phone intently.

"What's that?"

"...My cell phone." He rolled his shoulder, shrugging Rin off. Maybe he could call Rin's phone and leave a rude message that would make him feel bad when he recovered. Maybe he'd offer Haruka something by way of apology—there _was_ a limited edition issue of _Hot Springs and Me ~ International Edition_ on Yahoo Auctions he'd been eyeing, after all. Mind set, he scrolled through his list of contacts and punched the _call_ button next to Rin's name, sighing dramatically as he waited for the voicemail to pick up—

_"Haru?"_

__He nearly dropped the phone in fright, scrambling to keep a grip on it, and held it to his ear with both hands. "R—Rin?"

"What?" _"What?"_ came a double echo, responses given from his side as well as across the airwaves. Haruka was immediately on his feet, shoving Rin away bodily as he stormed out into the hall and dropped his voice to a confused hiss.

"This...is Rin?"

There was a momentary pause, and in the background, Haruka could detect the faint din of splashing and rough-housing. _"Uh...yeah? You called me, so..."_ He trailed off, likely waiting for Haruka to get himself together, before inhaling sharply and continuing brightly, _"Hey! This is the first time you've ever called me! I've had your number in my phone for, like, five months now! What gives?"_

 __But Haruka couldn't respond, his throat having gone dry and his palms breaking out in a cold sweat. This was Rin. This was _Rin_. _His_ Rin, like Rin—the other one—called him. He was speaking to Rin right now, which meant that person with his head poking curiously from Haruka's room was _not_. He slowly turned to glance surreptitiously over his shoulder, only to find Rin eyeing him knowingly, one brow raised as if to say _Well?_ and he swallowed thickly, clutching the phone closer. "Rin...you're...Rin?"

 _"...Last I checked?"_ A pause, and then with evident concern in his voice and tone dropped to avoid eavesdropping, _"...Hey, you okay? I figure you wouldn't call me unless you'd already tried Makoto, but..."_

 __He shook his head, before recalling that Rin of course couldn't see him. "I—no, I mean. Yes. Maybe. I..." And then the other Rin stepped out into the hall, leaning against the doorjamb and looking _so_ strikingly _Rin_ that Haruka nearly dropped the phone again: draped in that shirt Haruka had loaned him and in pants a bit too tight because he was thicker across the thighs than Haruka was, that strange bit of jewelry catching the glint of the late morning sun and seeming so out of place on a body that otherwise looked so _familiar_... "...Come over."

 _"What?"_ Rin laughed nervously, evidently unsure of just how serious to take the invitation. _"It's only lunch break just now; we've got another few hours yet of the Captain grinding us up for chum. You know that—I complain about it often enough."_ When Haruka didn't immediately reply either way, he offered, _"I can swing by later if it can't wait til you guys come over for joint practice next weekend? I'll catch hell from the Captain, otherwise."_

 __The thought that whatever this was might not be resolved by next weekend turned his stomach, and he reflexively bit out, "No—no, I can't wait until—" But he bit his tongue, reminding himself to calm down. He shouldn't drag Rin into this—even though he seemed to be intimately involved regardless. This was his hallucination, and all he needed was for Rin to show up, give his home a once-over, and determine that Haruka had finally gone around the bend, product of too many weeks without stretching his limbs in a proper pool.

 _"...Hey, chill. It's important, I get it."_ He huffed softly to himself, then allowed, _"Give me an hour."_

 __He opened his mouth to tell Rin to forget it, that there was a misunderstanding or that he wasn't feeling well and had just misspoke, but then the other Rin started sidling forward, lanky and slow and entirely too sure of himself for someone claiming to be from a parallel universe, and all that came out was, "...Thank you."

* * *

The second time around, the explanation went down a little easier, albeit no more believable than the first time.

"Think of reality as...a sheaf of parchment, with different routes and histories, different ways life might exist, on each strip—all piled together, one on top of the other. A soul is a soul is a soul and can exist simultaneously on any number of platforms, each iteration contained in its own reality, stretched infinitely thin." Haruka nodded as if he agreed, but mostly he was thinking about the conversation he'd had with Makoto fifteen minutes prior. They'd decided a week prior to head out, the four of them with Rei and Nagisa, into Tottori to see about getting new suits designed—something to better tie them together as a team. A quick glance at the clock said he was meant to meet Makoto at the base of the steps in another half hour...but that was likely not going to happen, so he'd dialed up Makoto and concocted a story involving a feigned illness and wanting to be sure he was in peak condition for the joint practice with Samezuka the next weekend. Makoto, being Makoto, understood and urged Haruka to feel better, letting him know he'd be by to check on him with some soup later on that evening. Haruka wasn't sure that was going to happen either, but he let Makoto off for the time being.

"The circumstances may differ across these 'verses, but the contents are the same, and there are certain...constants. Like the souls. And where relevant, a soul's mate."

This snapped Haruka back to the conversation, and he felt his stomach shift uncomfortably. "Wait—soul...mates?"

Rin just nodded, as if this were perfectly normal. "Yes—two souls with a resonance between them that draws them together and helps form the structure of their very reality. You can't not _see_ that there has to be some _structure_ to all of this, or it'll come crashing down on all our heads, right? These souls form links in each reality, strengthening the bond between themselves, their reality, and the other 'verses above and beyond, like a ladder. However, the problem comes when a given pair don't link up properly and wind up Calling to one of the other paired mates in _another_ verse instead. Ideally you're meant to be with your mate in your own 'verse, but since that doesn't seem to be the case here..." He frowned at Haruka knowingly, crossing his arms. "Now do you see how you're screwing everything up."

No, he didn't at all. He was still stuck back on the tripe about soul mates. He wiped a hand over his face, muttering, "Can't you just get to the point?"

"The _point_ is—you're not where you're supposed to be, your link isn't _there_ , so you're pulling and pulling at what you think you want and yanking people who are _perfectly happily married_ into your weird backwards 'verse—"

"Wait, married?"

"—and it's damn inconvenient!"

"Wait— _married_? You're married?" He frowned, glancing down at the jewelry attached to Rin's left ring finger and wondering now if this wasn't some sort of wedding band. "Aren't you...young?"

Rin just snorted. "No—and even if I were, you're only a few months older than me."

"This isn't about me, this is about you." Why he suddenly felt like playing Rin's guardian was beyond him, and perhaps wherever this Rin came from—absurd as the idea seemed—he was of an age to marry. It was only...the idea of Rin, married and settled down, with responsibilities and perhaps even _children_ was just so...foreign. Discomfiting.

There was a beat of silence, and then a sense of understanding seemed to dawn across Rin's features, lips quirking up a bit at the edges as he nodded and leaned forward to drop his voice conspiratorially, "Haru...you know I meant that...I'm married to _you_ , right?"

* * *

"...Why's he gotta live...at the top of the...fucking longest staircase...in the damn prefec...ture..." Rin groused, breath coming out in panting huffs that crystallized in the sharp chill of midwinter as he tromped up the steps to Haru's home perched at the peak of the hill. As expected, he'd endured a verbal reaming from the Captain, but he suspected it was mostly for show, as they neither one of them were under any illusions that Rin didn't give 120% in their daily practices, nor that missing a few hours of laps would adversely affect his routine. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't be worth getting an earful to sneak away a bit early, but...there'd been something in Haru's voice, the way he'd protested when usually he simply let everything wash over him, the _tone_ that was an uncomfortable reminder of the last time Haru had sounded so desperate, despite the months of recovery and restoration of a friendship. He wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he was mostly here now out of guilt, finding it all too easy these days to give in to Haru's requests when anything seemed remotely off.

He worried, was all; that something might happen again, that he wouldn't notice again until it was too late. In their day to day interactions, it was fine—especially with the buffer of all the others around, pleasantly distracting. But when they found themselves alone on those odd afternoons or sleepovers when everyone else had already nodded off...a strange tension rose between them that couldn't be entirely dispersed through good-natured ribbing or even the comfortable familiarity of bickering. It felt like something was still out of balance, not entirely _right_ , despite all the efforts they'd made to amend their relationship, and Rin wondered—more often than he liked to admit—if this was just...how it was supposed to be between them. If they weren't meant to be as close as Haru and Makoto were, if there was supposed to be a buffer of space between them that Rin could slip over from time to time but never stay behind.

This, he guessed, was one of those occasions of stepping over the line, surmounting that buffer and pretending for a while that there was nothing wrong. If Haru couldn't wait, then he shouldn't have to. Some things were more important than swimming, after all.

He paused on the landing just before the final hike and glanced over to find Makoto just making his way out the door, padded down in a winter coat and gloves and earmuffs that made him seem twice as thick as his usually formidable figure. Rin raised a hand in greeting as he caught his breath, shuffling forward to offer greetings. "Yo..." he barely managed.

"Ah—Rin! Hi." His face immediately brightened as recognition dawned, and he jogged over, cheeks flushed with the chill. "What brings you this way?"

Rin jerked a thumb up the staircase, grimacing as he straightened up. "I've been summoned. Not sure why."

"Summoned?" Makoto frowned softly, confusion evident. "...By Haru?"

Rin nodded. "Called me on break at practice; said there was something he needed me to come by for? That it couldn't wait..." He cocked his head, probing, "You...dunno what he's talking about, do you?"

Makoto's frown was unmoved, but his gaze grew unfocused as he slipped into thought. "...No, I mean...earlier, he said..." But then he swallowed, gaze sharpening again with some conclusion evidently being made. "No clue, nope. I guess he just needed your...input, maybe?"

Rin snorted, glancing up the stairs. "My input? On what, which of his fifteen identical suits has the prettiest shade of purple?" Makoto shrugged, offering a sympathetic smile. "Whatever... He just better feed me, for coming all the way here; I won't make it back to the dorm in time for dinner, at this rate." And it was here he realized that he'd likely interrupted Makoto heading out on an errand. "Oh—sorry, were you going somewhere? Didn't mean to keep you."

"Ah, no no—just heading to the bus stop. We're going into Tottori to shop for suits—me, Rei, and Nagisa."

"Not Haru?"

Makoto's flush darkened a little, and Rin wondered if it was from more than just the chill now. "No, he..." He shrugged. "I guess he wanted to take care of whatever he needed you for?"

Rin frowned to himself, thinking that it wasn't really like Haru to prioritize something with Rin over something with his team—though on second, chagrined thought...maybe it wasn't such a stretch. He ducked a nod, wishing Makoto farewell, and waited until Makoto had reached the base of the steps and turned the corner, headed for the nearest bus stop, before continuing his trek up the steps.

* * *

Haruka felt his heart drop into his stomach when Rin rang the doorbell and he slid the front door open to find Rin—his Rin, as the other put it—waiting on the other side, bundled up in a winter coat with shoulders hunched and brows raised as if to say _Well? Gonna let me in?_ Any hope he might have had that somehow the phone call had been rigged, that Rin was pulling some ridiculous prank (even though April was a good four months away), dissolved as Rin stepped over the threshold and began toeing off his sneakers, already hounding Haruka for something to warm his bones with. "What's so important you ditched Makoto and the others for, then?"

"Huh?" He nearly dropped the coat he'd taken from Rin to hang up.

Rin jerked a thumb behind him. "I ran into Makoto on the steps; said you'd been meaning to go shopping together but whatever you needed me for took precedence, he guessed."

Damn. That had been terrible luck—he'd have to apologize to Makoto later. Much later. Maybe now he'd be spared the awkward task of turning down Makoto's offer of soup later this evening, though. He arranged the coat on the rack alongside his own and decided to get this over with. "Just...go wait in the den. I'll bring in something to drink, and we can...discuss it."

Rin raised a brow. "Going all mysterious on me? You realize I'm gonna have to do an extra twenty laps next practice to make up for this?"

Haruka shuffled into the kitchen, waving him off. "You say that like you probably weren't going to do them of your own volition already."

Rin made a pained sound, then ground out. "...That's beside the point. Seriously, Haru—what's so important we couldn't talk about it on the phone or at least hold off til next weekend?"

"Den," Haruka reminded, puttering about to prepare a tea service for three. In hindsight, he would admit it had been awfully cowardly of him to foist the two Rins on each other unawares and hope they might just work out their differences together. But at the time, all he'd thought was that one Rin was already a pain in the ass, and he certainly didn't want to be in the room when two of them met for the first time.

* * *

Muttering rather unkind words under his breath, Rin did as instructed and took himself into the den, mumbling a soft, reflexive, "I'm coming in..." as he slid back the door to the living area—and found another occupant seated before the kotatsu already. "Oh—sorry, I didn't realize Haru had a..." but he trailed off before he could finish when the stranger calmly directed a glance his way...and he was confronted with the eerie sensation of staring into a mirror. He took one measured step back, mouth opening and closing a few times as he struggled to determine if it was just his imagination that this guy looked a hell of a lot like himself, or if there was a very good reason Haru had sent him in here ignorant and alone. "Do I...know you?"

The stranger let his gaze fall back to the table, where he was peeling a grape, and gestured to the floor pillow directly across the table. "Sit."

Like a child, Rin meekly obeyed, still too thoroughly thrown to care that this person was ordering him about like a servant rather than inviting him as a guest ought to be treated. He settled down slowly, though, taking in what he could with little care for being caught staring. The nails that carefully peeled back the thin skin of the grapes were manicured and painted with a glossy black polish, and a delicate bit of brass jewelry, like a glove almost, decorated his left hand and wrist—looking altogether rather out of place on him, given that the shirt he wore was the hideous Loosey-kun shirt Haru always insisted Rin wear when he stayed the night and a pair of pajama bottoms. His hair hung in red wisps, longer than Rin's own and gathered into a band at his nape, with a few strands escaping to brush against skin a tone darker than Rin's own that almost made him look like he'd just stepped off a pirate ship.

He could hear Haru in the kitchen, preparing tea from the sound of the service clinking, and wondered how long he'd be left here, alone, with this stranger who he was now _certain_ bore an uncanny resemblance to himself. Long lost cousin? Twin, separated at birth? Each possibility sounded more ludicrous than the last, and he wondered when his life had started sounding like a manga, because his mother was about to have some explaining to do.

"You're taking this pretty well, I have to admit."

Rin straightened, startled. "H-huh?"

The stranger leaned onto the table, arms crossed, and cocked his head with a bright-eyed, curious gaze. "Better than Haru."

Rin instantly flicked a wary gaze toward the kitchen. "What—huh? What about Haru?"

A knowing smile blossomed on his lips. "...I really find it hard to believe I was ever this _...new_."

And Rin didn't quite know what that meant, but he took offense all the same, frowning, "Hey, who _are_ you? I asked you earlier—have we met before or something?" He reached for a grape, not really hungry but not wanting whoever this was to feel he had the run of Haru's fruit supply. "Are you what Haru called me here for?"

"If Haru were doing any proper Calling, we wouldn't be having this conversation," the stranger muttered, mostly to himself, before continuing, "Yes. And I'm gathering from his conspicuous absence that I'm supposed to be the one to get this discussion started. I expect to be on my way as soon as Ha—well, soon, but if I don't fix you two before then, this is bound to happen again, probably to a version of us less magnanimous than myself..."

Rin could only process bits and pieces of the words coming out of this guy's mouth, and he shook his head. "Listen—I had to cut out of practice early to be here, so I'd really appreciate some sort of explanation as to why—"

"I'm you."

The words flew in one ear and out the other, refusing purchase, and Rin let out a breath that ended in a soft, labored chuckle. "O...kay."

"No—that's a lie." The stranger waved him off. "I'm what you might one day _hope_ to become—though given the state of Metaphysics knowledge of this 'verse, I wouldn't hold out much hope. I can, however—" He reached forward to clasp Rin's hands in his own, "—help you find a way to take your mind off of things."

Rin quickly jerked his hands away, easing back and keeping eye contact as he called out, "Haru...? Did you have to grow the tea plant yourself...?"

The stranger just smiled benignly and settled back again, reaching for another grape. "I _am_ you, you know."

Rin huffed an uneasy laugh. "I'll admit you bear a passing resemblance, but—"

"You prefer meats to fish, you're an early riser by nature, you hate to lose, you value hard work over innate talent."

This time, the laugh was more genuine. "What—trying to play psychic? Give me a fucking br—"

"You have a birthmark on your right inner thigh just at the vein, shaped like a crescent moon, and when Haru kisses it y—"

"When Haru _what_?!" he screeched, cheeks aflame, but the stranger continued.

"You have five particularly sensitive erogenous zones on the front of your body, and three on the back. Would you like me to list them? I can go top to bottom—start with the jugular, perhaps—or bottom to top, it doesn't really matter to me; and who knows, maybe you'll learn something."

Rin slapped his hands on the table and dropped his voice to a hiss, "If you don't _shut_ your fucking mouth, you pervert, I swear to god I'll—"

"He's not listening; and he won't come back in until I tell him he can. He doesn't want to, after all, because he knows we're going to be talking about that sort of thing."

Rin settled back, brows knitting together with his heart threatening to leap out of his throat. "Listen, I don't know who you are—and to be honest, I'm kind of past the point of caring."

"I told you—I'm you. Not much older, substantially wiser. And here to fix you."

"I don't need _fixing_ , least of all by some perv who conned his way into Haru's home and somehow got me involved as well. You know some really creepy things about me, but that doesn't mean you're—what, from some alternate dimension? A time traveler? My long-lost twin or something?"

A shrug. "A little of everything, I imagine. And you very much _do_ need fixing, because as I said, if I don't take care of the... _issues_ between the two of you, this is bound to happen again."

" _What_ is?"

He gestured between the two of them. "This. My being here." He jerked a thumb back toward the kitchen. "He brought me here, you know. Called me."

"So—what, you know Haru?"

"No wonder you're not together yet—Haru has next to no patience for such deliberate obtuseness..." The stranger muttered to himself, then cleared his throat. "All right. Let's start over—I'm not a pervert. Well—" He shrugged a bit self-deprecatingly. "In this case, any perversions I may entertain, you do as well, so let's just say they bear no influence on our conversation. Moving on—I _am_ you. But you're also you, so there's no problem." Rin's expression must have shown how little he was grasping, for the stranger backed up. "Let's...try this how I did with Haru. Will you at _least_ humor me? I'm really getting tired of explaining things an eight-year-old in my 'verse knows multiple times. I swear you're at least in for an interesting afternoon, if nothing else?"

Well, he wasn't talking about erogenous zones or Haru and birthmarks on his inner thigh anymore (which, how the _fuck_ had he known about that? Only his _mother_ knew about it...), so Rin decided to let him say his piece so that they might finally get Haru to join them and this mess—whatever it was—sorted out. "...Whatever," he allowed, propping his chin up in one hand and affecting as closed a mind as he possibly could.

This seemed palatable, and the stranger reached for a few sheets of paper sitting beside the table, laying them one atop another in a little stack. "You asked who I was—and I told you, I'm you. You laughed, presumably because you think I'm either lying or mentally ill, but I'm neither; you're simply ignorant of the ways in which this is possible."

"And you're gonna enlighten me, I suppose."

"Only because your own teachers haven't done their duty, it seems." He tapped the topmost sheet. "Reality as you understand it is not a straight line, charging ahead from point A to point B in time, but a flat plane, a series of sheets of parchment stacked one on top of the other. Please don't ask how this is possible, because I'm not a Metaphysicist nor do I expect to be here long enough to indulge."

"Poor me," Rin muttered. "Continue."

"Untethered in any manner, these 'sheets' of reality might buckle and shift—" To demonstrate, he mussed the papers, moving them about on the table's surface. "As such, there are...anchors. To ensure that the layers stay in phase with each other." He picked up a pin—and pushed the tip through all three sheets at once, pinning them together. "One anchor point doesn't do much, hence why there are multiple anchor points in each 'verse. Oh—that's what we call the planes of reality. Verses."

Rin just shrugged. "Why d'you need the anchors? What happens if they fall out of phase?"

"I...I don't know, to tell the truth. Like I said, I'm not a—"

"Just—forget I asked."

"Done," the stranger agreed, clearly irritated at being interrupted. "Each 'verse is an alternate version of every other one, a place where one thing, or a hundred things, or a billion things went differently, and you and Haru and your friends and family exist in an infinite number of iterations."

Rin sat up a bit straighter, for phrased in this manner—it kind of sounded familiar, like something he'd heard touched on in class before. All theory and far beyond the ken of any high schooler, but not completely foreign. Still, vague familiarity with a theory did not constitute belief that the person sitting before him now was some version of himself from another time and place. He'd sooner swallow the 'long-lost twin brother' story.

The stranger must have caught on to Rin's piqued interest, for his rate of speech increased here: "The anchors I mentioned before? They're not objects—they're _souls_. Souls common throughout every reality that resonate with each other. Souls that themselves are anchored in their own reality to shore up the structure...with a mate. A matched pair of energies that—"

"What the—now we're talking _soul mates_?"

The stranger brightened, "So you've heard of the concept?"

"Yeah," Rin laughed. "Romantic bullshit."

"You're one to talk about 'romantic bullshit'," the stranger countered coolly. "Haru mentioned being familiar with soul mates as well—I assumed it meant at least some _rudimentary_ Metaphysics education..."

"Wh—no, no. Soul mates—that's...well, like I said. Romantic bullshit. The idea that there's someone out there, custom made just for you, and once you find them, sparks will fly or your world will come together or some crap like that."

The stranger frowned. "Well—I don't know about sparks. Or—" He cocked his head, smile going a bit loopy. "Okay, maybe I do. And as for the world coming together, that's not too far off the mark." He tapped the pinned pages again. "Mates are linked to both each other and their doppelgängers in different but not unrelated ways. Each link in the chain of mates strengthens the overall structure, providing stability to not just their own world, but the other 'verses as well. Maybe your 'verse ascribes a romantic element to it because...well, traditionally, that's a strong factor linking mates—though not an inherently necessary one. But if it makes you more comfortable, think of it as more...two magnets. Polar opposites, drawn to one another in some way, shape, or form." He eyed Rin hopefully, clearly looking for some spark of recognition, and while his words did carry some hint of familiarity, he was most _definitely_ not ready to address the suggestions laden therein. "So, when mates form a link, they join the chain, and all the 'verses benefit. Understand?"

"...I guess."

"All I can hope for, really..."

"So...what does this have to do with me? You still haven't explained why _you're_ here—if you're me, shouldn't you have your own...what was it, 'verse?"

A nod. "I should—and I do. And I'd _really_ like to get back to it. Which, I likely will, in due time. I'm not too worried about it."

"Yeah, I can see how being jerked from your reality into another can be such an inconvenience."

"If you understood even the very basics of mate-related Metaphysics, I'm sure you'd be just as confident as me that things will work themselves out." Rin rolled his eyes, but made no more quips. "As for why I'm here and what this has to do with you...well. It's Haru's fault, actually."

"Wh—Haru's?"

A nod. "I told you—mates are like two magnetic charges. Bring them close enough together...and a pull is ignited. Metaphysicists use the term 'Call', which sounds much more appealing to me—but the point is that the linking of mates isn't important _just_ for the fabric of reality, but for their own good as well. Because an unlinked mate with a strong enough Call can tear apart other mates, searching for its own. Too many in that state, and the structure anchoring the 'verses itself will begin to collapse. My being Called here by Haru isn't just an inconvenience—it's _dangerous._ "

"I—wait, wait, let me get this straight..." He held his hands up, head starting to spin with the struggle to avoid getting too caught up in the stranger's admittedly well-crafted stories. "You're me—but from another dimension. Or, 'verse, sorry. You're supposed to be there, but...a magnet soul mate _here_ pulled you here?" A nod. "And...that magnet soul mate...is Haru." Another nod. "... _Why_?"

The stranger stared at him stupidly. "Are you...actively _trying_ to miss the point? Because _we're part of a mated pair_. Except—different versions. Different 'verses. I have my own Haru—and this Haru, he has his own me. His own Rin. You." He leaned forward, brows raised. "You and Haru are soul m—"

Rin held up a hand. "I'm gonna need you to _not_ finish that sentence."

* * *

Rin knocked back the water the stranger—no, he was going to admit it here at least: the other _Rin_ had poured for him, like it was something far stronger. A glance at the clock showed it had been more than a half an hour since he'd arrived, long past time for Haru to be in with the tea, but the other Rin had said he wouldn't call Haru in until Rin was ready, and Rin didn't know if he'd _ever_ be ready.

He hadn't entirely accepted the story—it sounded like a badly written episode of some fantasy manga, honestly—but he'd committed himself to this line of thinking for the time being, and that meant there was still a lot to process.

The other Rin, though, was nothing if not entirely forthcoming. To distract himself from the bombshell that he and Haru were anything more than childhood friends and rivals, he'd inquired about the other Rin's life—though in hindsight, this had been a poor choice for distraction, as the other Rin seemed to delight in regaling Rin with tales of himself, his life, and himself and his life with Haru. _His_ Haru, that was.

The other Rin came, as Rin suspected, from an arid desert land that Rin couldn't decide represented some time far back in Earth's history or far into its future. Most of the populace congregated around oases and the coasts, with much of the inland interior taken up by vast, unforgiving deserts. Their people predictably worshiped elemental gods, with the god of water deemed the most sacred of them all. It was said that the gods chose avatars to carry out their deeds on earth...and even less surprising, Haru was the lucky guy chosen by the water deity. The other Rin had frowned when Rin had snorted at this, until he'd explained, "No, just—I'm trying to figure out if mine's a bigger water freak, or yours."

Rin had been an acolyte at the water temple, abandoned there as a child and raised by the priestesses—until Haru had chosen him to serve him on his pilgrimage, traversing the nation and outlying regions while bestowing blessings to ensure good rainfall and prosperous crops. The other Rin admitted he felt that much of it was mere superstition and tradition, but claimed he'd seen his Haru work small magics enough times that he felt there was definitely something to the 'avatar' business. Rin, feeling he'd stretched his beliefs enough for one day, let it pass without comment.

Harder to swallow than the notion of Haru performing any sort of magic and blessings, though, had been the revelation that more than merely universe-designated soul mates, this Haru and his Rin had actually gone and gotten themselves _married_.

"Well that _is_ what people do when they're in love and wish to express their commitment, isn't it? You're not going to tell me you've never heard of such a concept?"

"Of course I've heard of it," Rin groused, "It's just—not between _guys_."

The other Rin had just shrugged. "I have no family to provide heirs for, and neither does Haru." He paused, as if only now considering something important. "Is that why you haven't linked? Because you feel obligated to leave an heir?"

"Wh—no! No, I mean, any of this soul mate business aside, we don't do things like 'heirs' and stuff anymore..." And while it wasn't entirely a lie, it wasn't exactly the whole truth either. He did feel, on some level, a pressure to leave behind progeny, to have a son—or daughter, he supposed—of his own to give the kind of life he couldn't have himself, full of love and wonder and pride and completion. It was kind of hard to get that level of fulfillment from a cat, after all. "...Seriously, though _—married_? To _Haru_?"

Another unaffected shrug, this time accompanied by a quirk of the lip, as if he found Rin's incredulity infinitely amusing. "Like I said—that's generally what one does when they're in love."

"Yeah, yeah I get that—but again: _to Haru_?"

"You realize your continued protests of disbelief only make it all the clearer you're only trying to convince yourself that the notion of being married to—or even merely in love with—Haru is ridiculous, right?"

"The _hell_ it—" He cut himself off, softening his voice; the last thing he wanted was Haru eavesdropping now. "I'm merely expressing my _surprise_ that you can manage to stand being alone with him for more than five minutes—in _any_ universe."

"Well, he gives fantastic head." Rin made a sound in his throat that was, he suspected, not entirely appropriate, flinching back, and this just made the other Rin laugh, a loud throaty guffaw. "What'd you think being married _entailed_? A shared tax burden and no burden to testify against one another?" He lifted his left hand, and Rin's attention was caught by the jangle of metal links and plates. "Just over a year, though. Still new enough that it makes me want to shout it from the nearest parapet." The other Rin nodded at Rin's ankle. "So that doesn't mean anything?"

"Huh?" He followed the gaze, noting his pants leg had ridden up a bit and exposed the anklet he wore. He hastily tugged it back down, grunting, " _No_. It's just fashion. I'm not—we aren't..." He trailed off, not even sure what he wanted to deny most—any attraction of that manner whatsoever, or just attraction to _Haru_. He chose to change the subject again. "So...how are you planning on getting back, then?"

"Hm? Oh." The other Rin mulled this over a bit. "I think I was only caught off guard, and that's how your Haru managed to Call me. If mine Calls me back...I imagine I'll just snap back into place. Like a pendulum falling back to its starting position." Rin didn't entirely understand it, but the other Rin didn't seem all that bothered by potentially being stuck in a parallel universe for the rest of his days, so that was his problem if things didn't pan out as he expected. "...Should we let Haru in now, do you think?"

"Oh—crap, yeah. I'm starting to get a little hungry now..."

In short order, Haru shuffled in with a tray of now-lukewarm tea and some edamame to snack on—hopefully while he prepared something more substantial. He endeavored to make no eye-contact with Rin, which was fine by him, as he wasn't entirely up to reading in Haru's eyes just what he was feeling under the weight of this 'soul mate' business. The other Rin, though, seemed to have no compunction in making eyes at Haru while he served tea. After an initial flash of irritation, though, Rin reasoned that to him, Haru looked like...well, _Haru_ , and it was probably difficult to entirely divorce feelings from reality. Besides, if Haru wasn't objecting to the longing looks the other Rin was throwing his backside, it was hardly Rin's place to say anything.

Tea was awkward, and the other Rin led the conversation, finally coming around to a flavor of tea he'd apparently found initially repulsive and deciding that soy beans were definitely something he'd like to try and take back with him. "I doubt they'll grow in our climate, but I've always appreciated a good challenge." Haru had the nerve to direct one of his rare fond smiles the other Rin's way, and Rin frowned petulantly into his teacup.

The clock on the wall showed the hour to be late afternoon, and Rin decided he needed to start thinking about the evening's arrangements. "Well, as _thrilling_ as this afternoon was and as much as I'd love to stay and chat more with my doppelgänger—the dorm's got a strict curfew, and I'd rather not miss dinner if I can help it." He shifted to his knees, and Haru mirrored him, scrambling to stand along with him.'

"Wh—you're leaving?"

"Uh, yeah? I dunno what exactly you expect me to do here..." Haru looked clearly uncomfortable, and under any other circumstances, Rin might have delighted in taking advantage of this fact. "He seems to think it'll blow over in a couple of days at best, so just...think of it as an extended sleepover with me." He clapped a hand on Haru's shoulder. "Only without the mandatory 5 AM jogs."

Haru's frown of concern was unmoved, and he followed Rin out into the entryway. "But—what am I supposed to do with him?"

Rin shrugged. "Whatever you do with me." He dared a sly suggestion, just to make the trip worth it: "Or, what? Worried he'll jump you because you're married?"

"I—we're not _married_. _He's_ married. To someone else."

"Yeah, to another _you_. Chew on that for a while."

"What makes you think I haven't been?" Haru muttered petulantly, and Rin nearly missed the step down into the _genkan_. "Just—regardless of the face he's wearing...he's still a stranger. I'd feel more comfortable if I weren't left alone with him the whole night..." He could have called on Makoto, in that case, but that would probably result in some confusion if they weren't open with their friend about what was going on. And there were some things Rin just _didn't_ want Makoto learning about them at the moment.

It wasn't that Rin was particularly averse to spending the night; he'd need to have Nitori fill out an off-campus permission slip for him in his absence, but there were no pressing assignments he needed to see to, and practice wouldn't resume until Monday. It was only...being around the other Rin was just unsettling, like seeing...well, an alternate version of himself. Which he supposed the other Rin was—much as he hated to admit it, he was starting to get swept up in this whole 'parallel universe' gibberish, and it was easier to go with the flow. But being faced with what his life might be like, and being forced to wonder just what it was he'd done differently—wrong, or right—to avoid ending up like the other Rin...it was discomfiting, to say the least.

At length, he finally allowed. "...As long as I don't have to sleep in the same room with him." Haru was visibly relieved with the decision, which prompted Rin to add (because he could), "Someone's gotta protect your chastity."

* * *

Much to his chagrin, Rin found himself stuck with the other Rin _again_ while Haru prepared their dinner. It was slightly less awkward this time, knowing that Haru was properly occupied and not merely waiting for Rin to absorb the revelation that his whole existence was part of some glorified space fairy tale, but there was still something decidedly unnerving sitting across the table from your mirror image.

"...So how long do you think it'll be 'til your Haru Calls you back?"

"Mmm, hard to tell...these kinds of situations don't crop up too often." He fixed Rin with a reproving glance. "Most mates don't fight their links; it's supposed to be natural—it's the easiest thing in the _world_. Or supposed to be."

"You haven't lived in our 'verse too long..." Rin reminded, though he directed the comment mostly to himself. "Then, uh...do you swim?"

"Swim? You mean for pleasure?"

"I...guess? What else would you do it for?"

"You mentioned earlier there was some training you were being kept from, so I assumed."

"Oh—no, that's just the swim team. At school."

"You go to school for swimming?"

"No, it's just club activities. Though—" He gave it some consideration. "I'm planning on making a career out of it."

"Your navy employs swimmers?"

"Oh god no—I mean like a professional swimmer." He jerked a nod toward the kitchen. "Haru won't admit it...but I'm pretty sure he's gonna go that route too."

"Then—all you'd be doing to earn your supper...would be _swimming_?" Rin nodded, as that was more or less how it worked, when it came down to it. The other Rin leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "... _Shit_ that sounds like fun."

Rin's lips quirked up. "Maybe if you're still around later in the week, Haru can sneak you to one of the nearby clubs."

"Not you?"

Rin snorted. "And what—pretend you're my twin brother?" He shook his head. "Besides, I live on the other side of town, and no offense to Iwatobi, but Samezuka's training regimen is a _little_ more rigorous; I never expect to see the outside of the natatorium before 8, if I'm lucky."

This brought a considering frown to the other Rin's features. "...So you really don't live together..."

"Uh, no? Why would we?"

"No—no, I understand, it's just..." Something akin to pain flashed over his features. "It feels...like such a waste."

Rin straightened up, the nerves he'd kept at bay with idle conversation creeping back in again, and he reminded, "...We're not you. We're—us. And this is who we are. Friends—rivals, really close and all but...not that." Not even if the universe demanded it would he be moved.

A nod. "I do understand—really. But...it still feels like a waste." He shrugged to himself. "I didn't start my acolyte training because of him...but I still requested to be trained at his Temple, when given a choice. I mean, anyone would have, right? The opportunity to study under the same roof as the Avatar..." He smiled a bit goofily. "....I won't deny I had ulterior motives, though."

"...You found him attractive."

"What? No—well, maybe in the conventional sense. I recognized his beauty, but...no. I simply saw that he was destined for greatness and...wanted to be a part of it with him."

"You admired him, then."

"Putting it mildly." Now here was something they could agree on—Rin knew the feeling, of seeing someone whose future was bright and wide and promising and wanting nothing more than to go to _that place_ with them. Even if they didn't really want you there by their side. "I couldn't stay still around him—I poured myself into my studies, practiced my offerings and demonstrated perfect forms whenever called on; he was an Avatar and I was just _me_ , but I suppose I thought I might be able to reach him, some day, if I tried hard enough. And then..."

"...He'd look back and see you. Recognize you..."

The other Rin glanced up, eyes widening a hair, and he smiled. "...Yes. Exactly. The other acolytes meant nothing; only _Haru_." He let his gaze drop again, a bit bashful. "Sometimes I'd sneak away, to watch him train—the priestesses wouldn't let him train with the rest of us, it being a sacred rite and all—and...I always thought I was being careful, hiding in the slats where the pigeons would roost and watching through the spaces in between, but..." He shrugged self-deprecatingly. "He noticed."

Rin raised a brow. "He noticed you stalking him. Not exactly the best first impression, I imagine." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, though, he was slapped in the face with the hypocrisy of it all and colored with shame.

"Well it got his attention, didn't it?"

Rin had to grant him that. Against his better judgment, he couldn't help innocently pressing, "So...when did you...y'know, know?"

"Know?" the other Rin parroted. "What, that I was in love with him?"

"I...sure. If you want to be blunt."

"You're me; I don't see the point in beating around the bush. As for when I knew..." He pursed his lips, and for all his boasting, he still seemed a bit hesitant in his admission: "...I don't know that I ever _wasn't_. I just didn't realize that's what it was called. I always just...felt a pull. Like I was supposed to be around him, like we'd do something _great_ together, and that I needed him and he needed me too—but you try telling people that, and they'll just assume you're blowing smoke. There's no test or anything, even in my 'verse, to tell who's mated to who, but..." He drew his knees to his chest and rested his chin atop them, smiling to himself. "...You know, all the same. You have to deliberately ignore it to miss it."

Rin regarded him warily, thoroughly unsettled by how familiar the conversation was sounding. This wasn't him, this wasn't _them_ ; this was someone else's life, someone else's circumstances. They might share faces, even names, likes and dislikes—but that didn't make them the _same_ , and just because these were all the same things he felt with _his_ Haru didn't mean...anything. It didn't mean anything at all.

"...I'll go set up the spare futons," he offered, for lack of anything else to do and hoping to make an escape; he really didn't want to hear any more about how this Rin had fallen in love with his Haru and were now married and living their happily ever after in some alternate dimension.

"Spare futons? A bed, then?" A nod. "Where will I sleep?"

"Here, on one of the futon setups."

"And you?"

He pointed up. "Haru's room, on the floor. It's too cramped for three, and it tends to be warmer in here, besides."

The other Rin eyed him with unguarded envy. "That seems hardly fair; if I don't get to sleep with my Haru, you shouldn't get to either."

"I'm—not _sleeping_ with him!" Rin sputtered, stomping for the hall closet. "It's where anyone who spends the night here sleeps."

"So you let others sleep in his bedroom?"

"It's not a matter of _letting_ them—this is _his_ home, you realize? Besides: what claim could I possibly have over him?"

"I'm quite sure being _soul ma_ —"

"I told you— _don't_ finish that sentence."

The other Rin buttoned his lips, clearly frustrated with his lack of progress. "...Well, all the same. You might consider it, at least."

"Consider what?"

"Establishing some...kind of relationship." When Rin fixed him with a warning glare, he held his hands up, "If you're set on not taking _full_ advantage of what I'm sure must be an excruciatingly tense dynamic between the two of you, then that's on your heads. But all the same...you ought to reach some kind of an agreement. Make some...kind of commitment. Something to bond you. So that _this_ —" He gestured between the two of them. "—doesn't happen again."

Rin eyed him for a long moment, considering; in their earlier conversation, the other Rin had admitted that not _all_ of these linkages had to be romantic in nature, and Rin wouldn't deny that there was some allure to the notion of being bound in some form or another to Haru. He'd hoped it might manifest in an oath to make it to _Tobiuo Japan_ together and then to the Olympic podium, but...that would probably prove too far into the future for anyone's peace of mind. "...I'll sleep on it."

"Mmm," the other Rin allowed, turning back to the bowl of grapes still sitting on the table and reaching for another to peel. "If you can get any sleep."

* * *

"...So did he say when he thought he'd be leaving?"

The voice echoed from the dark to Rin's ears, and he kept his eyes shut, blocking out the moonlight blazing in through Haru's paper-thin curtains. "...No, but he doesn't seem particularly concerned."

"Someone who appears out of thin air and doesn't really care how much he inconveniences others...he's definitely a Rin." Even Rin had to snicker softly at the light jibe, and he scuffed the bottom of the bedframe in reprobation. "...What did you talk about?"

"Huh?" He winced at how his voice nearly broke, thrown by the question.

"You talked more while I was prepping dinner, didn't you?"

"Oh—yeah, no, just...nothing super important."

"I find it hard to believe those topics exist under the given circumstances."

"Fuck, Haru—you want me to read back the minutes of our meeting or something? We just talked." He shrugged, before realizing Haru couldn't even see him. "...I think he's getting homesick."

"Homesick? He hasn't even been gone 24 hours."

"Screw you; we Matsuoka Rins are sensitive to separation."

There was the creak of bedsprings, and then: "...Are you?"

Rin flopped over when he realized Haru had sat up in bed, and strained his vision, just making out his upper body in the dark, limned in the moonlight streaming in. "...Kind of. I'm just good at hiding it." He snorted to himself. "Guess I really screwed myself over deciding I wanted to study on the other side of the planet then, didn't I?"

A pause, followed by softer, "...You should have stayed."

Rin chuckled to himself, teasing because this was how he dealt with uncomfortably intimate situations, "Didya miss me that much, Nanase?"

" _No_ ," Haru retorted, far too quickly for Rin's pride. "...But then you wouldn't have had to go through what you did."

“Maybe,” Rin allowed. “Or maybe I’d have just gone through some different crisis.” He shifted onto his side, fixing Haru with a smile he was confident couldn’t be seen in the dark. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of dramatic.”

“I’d be blind not to.”

“Jerk,” he snorted. “…It’s really weird, though. Hearing him talk.”

“How so?”

“Just—he’s…me. And he’s…you know. Married. To you.”

The silence that followed had Rin hoping Haru had just fallen asleep and dreading that he’d finally gone and stepped on a land mine. “They’re them, we’re us. Don’t worry about it too much.”

“Who’s _worried_?” he protested, a note of petulance in his voice at the idea that Haru thought him unable to deal with the knowledge. “I just said it’s weird, that’s all.” He rolled back over, placing his back to Haru, and frowned into the pillow that needed restuffing as he tried to ignore the fact that Haru didn’t seem to find their counterparts’ relationship strange at all.

* * *

When Haruka awoke the next morning—it was to his shoulder being shaken by a familiar face, though the mind behind those probing eyes was anything but.

“Your Rin went for a jog, he said. Told me if I wanted breakfast, I should come wake you up.”

Haruka winced as a beam of sunlight fell across his face, and he threw an arm up to block it, grumbling, “He went jogging…?” The asshole; he knew full well Haruka liked to join him for his morning runs when he stayed the night. It was a good chance to get in some road work, and the temptation of a race was often too sweet to pass up. Stamina-building exercises were typically his least favorite, but Rin was like the spoonful of sugar that helped the bitter medicine go down a bit easier, friendly competition just what he needed to liven up what was typically a rather dull bit of pounding the pavement.

With a frustrated grunt, he threw back the coverlet and ran his fingers through his hair, wondering if this Rin would grant him the luxury of a morning bath before breakfast. He watched him wander about the room, clearly still not tired of examining the minutiae of Haruka’s life despite giving the room a thorough once-over the day before. Deciding that, if he lingered in the tub, _his_ Rin would come back and be far less polite about hounding him for a morning meal, he tugged on a pair of bottoms over his boxers and shuffled for the stairs, beckoning Rin behind him.

He’d meant to stop by the supermarket on the way home from Iwatobi’s shopping excursion the previous day, which left him with little fit for a breakfast for three, so he settled for simpler western fare sure to suit Rin’s palate—hopefully both of theirs—and put some rice on to steam for himself. Rin hovered at his elbow the entire time, expressing his opinion on the lack of spices Haruka used to season the omelet or bacon slabs (“An insult!”) and delighting in the workings of the rice cooker (“…All right, perhaps not _so_ backwards then.”), all the while fixing Haruka with an intent gaze, as if memorizing his every move.

He might have ignored it—would have preferred to, really—were he not keenly aware of the implications. When this Rin looked at him, it wasn’t with curiosity or interest—or not _only_ that—it was with the silent, fervent hope that eventually, Haruka would look back at him. The pull was so strong at times that Haruka had to shake his head, distract himself with the toaster oven or sniffing the milk to see if it’d gone bad, and move on—or else he might give Rin the wrong idea. Rin looked at him and saw a partner, someone he shared a relationship with far beyond that of mere friends or rivals, and Haruka understood that it must be difficult for him to separate those feelings he had for his own Haruka with the ones he felt for Haruka himself, but it needed to stay separate. His Rin already seemed to have suspicions that this Rin might try to make a move on him—no need to give his frivolous worries credence.

He placed a pot cover over the omelets to keep them cool before settling down at the table across from Rin, waiting for their third to join them. The air was thick with the scent of burned toast and fresh rice and scrambled egg, and while Haruka had no opinion either way on the cuisine, Rin seemed famished. He thought about offering to let him go ahead and start, convinced that Rins in every ‘verse must operate on a different schedule from most, if he was this bright eyed and bushy tailed at this hour, but instead he wound up asking, ”What did you talk about? Last night while I cooked.”

“Hm?”

“…You and Rin.” He wasn’t quite sure why he was asking this question again—why he was so damn curious about what they’d discussed. Perhaps it’d been about him; maybe that was why Rin hadn’t wanted to talk about it. Their conversation had been a private one, and if Rin had thought he deserved to know the details, he would have said as such the night before. But he couldn’t help the niggling feeling that he really ought to press a little harder, apply a bit more pressure. Reality, as he understood it, hung in the balance after all.

A sly grin twisted Rin’s lips, and Haruka panicked for a moment, wondering if some part of this soul mate nonsense involved being privy to one another’s thoughts. “…Why’re you asking me? Shouldn’t you be asking Rin?”

“He wouldn’t s—” he started, before noting the grin broadening, and he smoothed his features, continuing, “…If you’d rather not share, I understand. It was a private discussion, I was just curious.”

“Why d’you think that is?”

That Rin wouldn’t share, or that Haruka was curious? He wasn’t sure which was being asked, so he changed tacks. “…I’m still not entirely clear on what exactly it is you want of me—us. But he did mention you seem to think you won’t be here for long, so if there’s anything you think we should know…”

“There’s lots you should know…” He cocked his head. “…but maybe it’d be easier to just tell you what you _want_ to know?”

Haruka frowned. “How is that any easier?”

“It’s always easier to listen to things we want to hear than things we maybe don’t want to.” He settled back in the chair, arms over his chest, and stared down at the woodgrain of the table. “…I told him about Haru. My Haru.”

Haru felt his heart thud ominously, stomach churning. “Did…Did Rin…”

“Ask me to? No. Though I think he wanted to hear, all the same.” He flicked a sly glance Haruka’s way. “I think you do, too.”

“I—never said I—”

“—and you shouldn’t have to. But…” He trailed off, then shrugged to himself. “I think I won’t. Tell you, that is. It wouldn’t do you any good.”

“…Why not?” And he truthfully didn’t know what he was asking _why not_ to—why it wouldn’t help him, or why Rin wouldn’t tell him.

“Why would you want to hear me babble on like a lovestruck schoolboy? You should know what it takes to get me to shut up once I get started on you.”

In the back of his mind, now, Haruka heard an eleven-year-old Gou mocking her brother’s unabashed praises of Haruka’s speed and swimming ability and decided that maybe he had a point. “…Rin said that…he thinks you’re homesick.”

A pause, and then a sigh. “I guess I am.”

“…You miss him?”

That knowing smile was back, and Haruka bit his tongue. Rin traced the delicate filigree on his wrist band, twisting the ring it linked to around his finger. “It’s new enough that…yeah, I do. A lot. We haven’t slept apart since the ceremony. I know it’s not for forever, that I’ll be back before I know it, as soon as he figures out what’s happened, but…still. The waiting’s horrible. Especially when _you’re_ …” He raked a glance over Haruka, then hastily turned his gaze away, cheeks pinking.

Haruka let the awkward moment pass, then steered the conversation toward safer waters. “I look like him that much?”

Rin’s smile turned a bit bashful, but he took the invitation to openly eye Haruka without complaint. “He’s…darker than you.” He held a hand up, comparing their skin tones; Haruka’s skin was still darker, thanks to long summer afternoons spent in the pool and ocean waters, but it was beginning to pale after weeks of indoor confinement. Still, he managed to bear up against Rin, who purportedly spent his days trekking across the desert with his own Haruka. “Skin’s a bit rougher—and his hair’s finer, and drier too.” He reached up here to finger a few strands, before letting them drop back against Haruka’s cheek. “…You sound just like him though. When you say my name—or, his name I guess—sometimes, it’s hard to remember…” He trailed off, chuckling softly to himself to dispel the awkward tension that had settled between them. “…What about me? You think I really look like him?”

For the first time, Haruka let himself really _look_ , reminding himself he’d been invited, that it was an innocent question. He was still wearing the Loosey-kun shirt from the day before, hair decidedly in greater disarray after a night's sleep (though from Rin's confession, he wondered if he'd even gotten that much sleep at all). The flashes of bare chest that peeked up from the collar of the shirt were broad and firm, not so dissimilar from Rin's own. Haruka supposed that training for the Butterfly and whatever being an acolyte bonded to a water avatar entailed must have involved similar regimens. He traced the long slender line of Rin's neck up to his jaw, deeming that knowing grin _definitely_ familiar, and realized that Rin was watching him. He was watching Haru watch _him_ , and clearly liked it.

He cleared his throat and nodded towards Rin's hands, settled neatly on the table before them. "...Your nails." Unthinkingly, he reached out and carefully picked the hand closest to him up. "He trims his—and would certainly never paint them." He frowned at the apparently frivolity and turned the hand over, noting the bracelet again and mimicking Rin's habit of tracing the filigree. It was a handsome piece of work, lightweight, so it didn't burden, and intricate in its detail. Here and there, unnoticed before, he now caught flashes of color: tiny rubies, embedded in the brass as studs where strands crossed. He could feel Rin watching him again, but this time, he didn't flinch at the knowledge—just brushed a finger lightly over the metal band encircling Rin's finger. "Does...does he have one too...?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rin's sharp smile wax fond. "He—"

"Am I interrupting something?" Any response was cut off by Rin's—his Rin's—untimely return, and Haruka dropped the other Rin's hand like it was a scalding iron. He felt like a child who'd been caught trying to pilfer a sweet from his mother's kitchen, and he turned away so that Rin—both of them—couldn't read anything on his face.

"No—breakfast. It's ready. Have some." Rin, for better or worse, made no remarks, only shuffling over to prepare himself a plate, and once he'd finally gotten his heart back to beating a proper lazy rhythm, Haruka rounded on him: "You could have woken me. I would have gone with you."

"Mmf mmghgh?" Rin reasoned around a piece of toast, tearing a bite off before repeating, "But then who would make breakfast?"

* * *

Breakfast was excruciating. The fare was delicious, no doubt about that—Haru could probably make gravel into fine dining, if he put his mind to it. It was the company.

He'd thought catching Haru and the other Rin 'in the act' would be something they might joke over, more ribbing along the lines of _I leave you alone for an hour and this is what happens?_ But then Haru had closed in on himself, jerking his hand back from where he'd been touching the other Rin like he'd been caught in the middle of something dirty and was ashamed for it. It was that reaction that Rin couldn't stomach—a reaction that said Haru was conscious he had something he ought to be ashamed _of_. 

So Rin had wolfed down his omelet and toast, knocking back a glass of milk before announcing he was taking first shower. He'd claimed he needed it to wash off the sweat of a morning's good workout; truthfully, though, he just hadn't wanted to be left alone with either of those two just yet.

Which meant, of course, that he would pay for it later: which happened when Haru claimed that he needed to go shopping if they were to have anything to eat for lunch. Rin moved to protest that he wouldn't be sticking around for lunch—but Haru reasoned that he still needed to purchase food for _himself_ and the other Rin as well, and that he didn't want to leave their 'guest' home alone. His suggestion to just take the other Rin with him had not been well received, so here he sat, alone once again with his doppelganger and none too happy for it.

The other Rin was fresh out of the bath, clearly having enjoyed indoor plumbing and water as hot or cool as he liked, and he had a pleasant flush to his cheeks that said he'd liked it quite hot. "When d'you think Haru will be back?"

A shrug. "I dunno. Depends on whether or not there's a sale on mackerel. We may not see him til next week, in that case."

The other Rin snorted in amusement and ran his fingers through his damp hair. The shirt he wore now was an Iwatobi High School Swim Club shirt, and Rin felt another unwanted stab of jealousy rear up within. The sight of himself wearing Haru's clothes really wasn't something he wanted to deal with right now. "Guess we'll have to keep each other company then..." He settled forward, elbows resting on the table, and cocked his head. "Any pressing topics of conversation?"

"Not particularly," Rin muttered, glancing about the den for the bag he'd brought along the day before, wondering if his phone was dead or if it had enough juice left to distract him.

"Excellent—then let's discuss what you and Haru did last night."

" _What_?" He twisted around, fixing the other Rin with an incredulous stare. "First—how is that relevant? And second—how is that _any of your business_?"

"Because I'm you; and he's Haru. And I want to know." As if that justified anything. 

Rin crossed his arms over his chest, defiant. "I'm really getting tired of you insisting I share every damn detail of my personal life with you just because you popped over from some passing reality."

"'verse," he corrected.

"Whatever—you're still not getting anything."

If he thought this would put the other Rin off, he was sorely mistaken, as this refusal only seemed to rile him up further. "See, that tells me there's something you don't want to share." He raised a brow. "Did you share a bed? Did he touch you? Did _you_ touch _him_ —"

"We talked!" Rin finally allowed, if only to stop his counterpart's guessing game; there was no telling how far he might imagine Rin and Haru had 'gotten', if left to his own devices. "God, all we did was _talk_!"

"Talk?" The other Rin pulled back, face twisting into a sour expression. "Wh—you can do that _any_ time!"

"Exactly—because that's what we do, when left alone together. Talk. Because _we're not together_."

The grimace melted into a frown of confused disappointment. "But—after yesterday, I thought that you might at least make _some_ progress. If all you did was talk, then was it about the situation?" He brightened. "Have you agreed to some sort of bond? A commitment?" Rin's expression was unmoved, still frozen in an irritated scowl, and the other Rin threw his hands up, settling back with his hands braced behind him. "Dammit—what are you _waiting_ for? Have I not made myself clear enough? Would you rather be stuck with my Haru next time around? Because if you think _I'm_ annoying, I can assure you you won't appreciate his delightful company for an extended period of time."

Rin shuddered. "I'll pass, if it's at all possible."

"Well you're in luck—because it _is_ possible." He shifted onto his knees and leaned onto the table, apparently in an attempt to intimidate Rin by looming over him. Which was ridiculous, as they were of a height. "You need to do this. If you can't manage to find your balls and _do it_ , I'll be happy to take you both through the steps. Together."

Rin winced, feelings his cheeks heat. "It's—I just don't see him like that! You're—you, and whatever, that's fine. But I may look like you, I may sound like you, I may _act_ like you to some extent—but it stops when it comes to... _being_ with Haru." He sniffed defiantly. "I'm my own person, you're not going to change that."

"Who said anything about _changing_ you?" the other Rin pleaded, his fire waning. "You say you're not me—that yours and his relationship is _different_. Fine. But is that because you _want_ it to be, or because it just is? Because you've neither one of you taken any steps to do anything about it?" He slipped back into a seated position, hands folded in his lap. "Much as you may want to deny it, we're more alike than you're willing to admit—and I know as well as you do that when I see something I want, I go for it. No prisoners."

Rin stared at him, the irritation still simmering within; it was perfectly easy to speak of such things from a position of experience, sure, but Rin was the one being asked to turn his life upside down for high risk and low reward. "I'm sure you may see it that way, but in this 'verse, we practice caution. I learned the hard way that coming on strong only serves to push others away." Haru included, he recalled bitterly. 

This seemed to serve as a stepping-off point for his counterpart, though, who perked up, renewed fight in his eyes. "That...seems to suggest that there's desire there, then." He lifted one brow hopefully, cocking his head to the side and ducking down when Rin tried to glance off to the side, dodging the question. "You really must throw me a bone or _something_."

"What the hell does it matter, either way? We are what we are, and—isn't this a two-way street?" He made a rolling gesture with his hands. "Doesn't...you know, doesn't there have to be... I mean, we have a _word_ for when only one person feels a certain way and...the other doesn't. And I'm not so desperate yet that I'm willing to toss away my oars to swim for a shore that's probably not even there."

"Oh—" The other Rin waved him off, "If that's what you're concerned with, I wouldn't bother. Your Haru's so like my own I can't count the number of times I've nearly... But, that's beside the point—the point _is_ , that I'm convinced your fears are unfounded." He shrugged, hunching his shoulders close. "I see the same subtle cues in him—and I recognize them for what they mean, even if he doesn't himself." He raised his brows, injecting some welcome reassurance into his tone. "I swear: the end result is guaranteed. It's only the process of getting there that may prove a tricky course to walk."

Rin grimaced. "Ain't that always how it is?"

The other Rin smiled sympathetically and patted his arm. "I'm afraid so," then added with a darker, more promising tone, "But entirely worth it. You ought to well know—you'll never feel more fulfilled in your life than when doing _anything_ by his side."

Lost in a moment of consideration of what that entailed, Rin allowed a fond, "Yeah...", smile going a bit loopy, but the high quickly faded, like cold water dousing a kindling ember, and he noted, "...But, I wouldn't know the first thing about..." For all his claims to romance, he was quite sure he was _terrible_ at it—especially when it came to Haru. He only ever seemed to show Haru his worst side, and any attempts to inject some new element into their relationship would surely be met with the brick wall Haru erected when invited to join in on _any_ new activity.

The other Rin didn't seem concerned in the least with his lack of confidence, though, offering brightly, "Oh—that should be easy enough to resolve!" He yanked off the shirt, nearly getting it caught on his ears, so tight was it across the shoulders. "Here, you can practice on me." He casually brushed a finger across one nipple, grinning when it began to peak sharply. "He likes foreplay—loves it, rather. But then, so do I, and my only complaint is that it's hard enough to get even a few moments alone most of the time; I'd rather he just get _started_ , you know? We're so exhausted when we finally manage to crawl into our tent that more often than not we fall asleep with our hands on each other's di—"

"I feel like I'm repeating myself but— _please don't finish that sentence_." His counterpart buttoned up, looking rather put-out, and Rin felt his cheeks flaming with heat. "That. Was _not_. What I meant."

A frown. "Wh—so then you do know? You just act like a virgin before her first moon, so I naturally assumed—"

"I _meant_ that I needed advice on—you know what? Forget it." He moved to stand, bracing his arms on the table to steady himself. "This was stupid."

"Rin." The other Rin stopped him with a sharp tone to his voice and a hand about his wrist, grip tight and unforgiving, and the mirth in his eyes—while not entirely extinguished—was banked low. "...I'll admit, I misinterpreted your meaning. But don't be foolish enough to dismiss what you've finally started to admit to yourself because of _shame_." He let his grip loosen. "I'm you. What could you possibly have to be embarrassed about with _yourself_?"

Rin let himself be drawn back down again, the heat in his cheeks withdrawing. While he could see the logic, he still felt that many a joke was being made at his expense, and his pride stung. "...Much as I appreciate your good intentions. I...really don't need _sex tips_ —"

"Don't you?" And his tone now was less teasing and more promising as he withdrew his hand, slinking back across the table and keeping steady eye contact. "Wouldn't you like to know what he wants...before he even knows himself? Are you so buttoned down that you deny yourself even innocent _thoughts_ , which can surely hurt no one?" Rin swallowed thickly, pinned under his gaze, and hoped he wasn't expected to actually answer these questions. "It's not perversion—it's preparation. It's wanting him to _feel_..." The other Rin's eyes fluttered shut, and Rin felt his own tension ebbing as he watched, frozen. "The first time he ever touched me...ever _truly_ touched me..." He sighed, a breathy moan mingled. "Shit, I thought the stars had aligned." He chuckled at his own turn of phrase, smiling to himself. "And I guess they kind of had." His lids opened again, gaze dark and inviting. "And the first time I ever touched him...I felt like I'd grabbed hold of lightning—like it was the stupidest, bravest, most insane thing I'd ever tried." He let his hand slide down his bare stomach, over the broad planes of his chest and firm, corded abdominals, teasing just at the hem of the flimsy sweats Haru had rummaged out for him, and Rin knew he ought to say something—that the situation was about to jump off the rails and travel into territory he wasn't entirely sure he was comfortable with, but he kept his mouth shut, his tongue tied, and just watched, making mental notes as ordered.

"He's...not shy, but if you want something, more often than not you're going to have to demand it. Though his single-minded nature is something I've come to appreciate." He rubbed himself beneath the hem, lips curling into a grin. "Though the occasions when he takes it upon himself to be demanding are...rather intense." Rin could hear his counterpart's breathing slowing, growing labored and focused, as if drawn over tense wire, and his words were starting to sound less and less like good, solid advice and more and more like remembrance, memories drawn up for a single purpose: to get him off. This was quickly escalating into something quite personal, and Rin hesitated, sure he should take his leave.

"He doesn't—ngh, he doesn’t really like my mouth on him. But he loves going down on me—isn't that the strangest thing you've ever heard? What sort of man would rather..." His jaw dropped a hair, and then he bit his lip, the fingers stuffed down the front of his sweats stilling as they curled to grip. "I think he just likes...seeing me lose it..." Here, he finally drew the crown of his half-hard erection out from under the hem, and Rin swallowed thickly—it wasn't like he'd never seen his own dick before, but it was kind of hard to not feel like he was being treated to his own private peep show, and the pants he’d pulled on after his earlier shower were starting to draw tight across his crotch, reminding him it'd been a while since he'd seen to his body's needs, and here was a filthy mouth spinning fantastic tales about his sex life in an alternate reality.

At once, he knew he shouldn't stay—this wasn't his life, this wasn't his Haru. He began to shift upright again, legs feeling entirely too wobbly beneath him. "I—I should go, I shouldn't—"

"I wish you wouldn't," the other Rin frowned, neck and chest flushing darkly as he cradled himself, not yet actively jerking himself off, only offering meaningful tugs and swipes across the tip beginning to peek out. He braced himself with one hand behind him, legs splayed unabashedly. "You could learn something."

"I know how to jerk myself off, thanks," Rin muttered, glancing around the room for _anything_ else to focus on. He'd go gather his bag back in Haru's room, wait this out.

"I'm not teaching you how to please _yourself_ , you prick."

"And I told you—I don't need _sex tips_."

"Is it the demonstration you object to—or simply knowing who's brought me to this point?" Rin didn't respond, uncertain of what to say or how to say it without being dubbed a liar. "I'm here now—and while it's been pleasant enough, I don't really want to come back. And something tells me that Haru isn't the sticking point, here—seeing how you flinch every time you catch sight of my wedding band." He jangled the bracelet for show, and Rin—against his better judgment—did wince. "...We spoke, you know."

"Spoke?"

"Me and Haru." He cocked his head, hand still working himself slowly and methodically. "He was curious. About what we spoke of." He raised a brow to press his point home. "He wonders what I tell you. About yourself, about him. About other worlds where you're pledged to one another and complete and _happy_. Your 'verse is backwards, I won't deny that—but you could have that too. If you wanted it." There was a sharp little gasp, as he found a particularly good angle. "And I think you want it."

Rin watched through lidded eyes, the slow rhythm as his counterpart stroked himself mesmerizing, until he half forgot what he'd meant to be doing anyway. He knew he was right, of course; half his life he spent charging ahead for what he wanted without looking or thinking, and the other half he seemed to spend running away. Being considerate was damned annoying, and he wondered where he might be right now if he'd been more like this Rin, hiding in metaphorical rafters and begging for Haru to turn and look at him instead of telling himself _this is enough_ and never daring to consider wanting more. 

Probably not here, watching himself stroke his cock to thoughts of a husband in an alternate reality. Yes, his life had finally become weirder than any given fantasy manga.

A gentle whine, killed at its source as quickly as it escaped, called him back to the moment, and he could see the other Rin had moved beyond caring if Rin stayed or left, his private thoughts having finally superseded his surroundings. Rin stared openly now, feeling the surge of daring that he was sure most voyeurs must feel when certain they could never be caught. He'd been given leave to watch, and the other Rin's eyes were closed, besides.

Was he stroking himself how he liked best—or how his Haru touched him? Or were they one and the same? When his thighs jumped, was it because his fingers along his shaft's great vein felt amazing—or because he was used to there being another pair of strong legs between them to brace against, another tongue where fingers proved poor substitute? When he began working himself in earnest, was it a pace he set himself, or memory of some liason past? 

Was he watching _Rin_ , or _Haru_?

All pretense of teasing or teaching was dispensed with abruptly, and Rin watched, fist pressed stubbornly against his cock to keep it in line, as the other Rin adjusted his grip and hauled himself forward, the elbow of his free arm balanced on the table as he arched forward, hips slung back and canting into the channel his fingers formed. He moved with purpose, muttering softly to himself—maybe curses, maybe Haru's name, Rin didn't care to speculate—and pressed his face against his forearm to block out all distractions.

This was it. This was what he looked like, overcome with lust and longing and pushed nearly to the brink by mere memory of a thousand and one moments of passion. He wasn't even nineteen yet—his most lascivious escapades were his Friday-night jerks, a relaxing way to wind down the week before a bone-deep soak in a warm tub. _This_ Rin had purpose and experience and a real honest-to-god _relationship_ with Haru: they weren't just friends who saw each other in passing or every other week for joint practices, they were _partners_ who held nothing back, seeking everything each other had to offer and funneling it back into _them_ , stronger together than apart. Rin liked to think he and Haru did that too: built each other up, pushed each other forward, but...there was always that buffer, that barrier.

Well fuck the buffer. He and Haru were god-damn soul mates.

He shoved his hand into his pants, hissing at the chill, but pushed through it, settling his fingers tightly around the shaft and working himself as quickly as possible—straining to catch up and mimicking his counterpart's sure, desperate strokes. It felt fantastic—but that was to be expected, and he wished for a fleeting moment that he could share the memories too and not just the experience. But the expressions on the other Rin's face were demonstration enough: mouthed silent pleas, fingers twitching and grasping at the tabletop, as if for bedsheets—or another's hand, and Rin watched, because that was all he could do. Watch, learn, accept. When this Rin left, when he returned to his own 'verse and his own Haru, his problems would be over. But Rin's would continue, only resolved when he took action himself. 

He steadied his strokes, holding off on the frantic jerking he knew would push him over, and watched the other Rin approach his peak: fingers going white-knuckled and the silent moans becoming vocal ones, a few breathy, broken — _aru_...s announcing his climax. His seed bubbled out of his cock, pooling in his upturned hand and threading his fingers, and Rin wondered silently if he imagined he was emptying himself into Haru's hand—or mouth—or—

And then he was peaking himself, milking his release with quick, practiced strokes once he felt it all wash over him, a rush that surged through him, down his spine and up his shaft, spurting from the tip in ropey lines he only belatedly realized he ought to be sure didn't get all over Haru's nice tatami matting. He sank back to his knees, back heaving with the effort and stars spangling his vision, musing distractedly that maybe these were the ones that were supposed to align all nicely when he and Haru finally got around to doing what they were meant to do. Out of the corner of his blurred vision, he could make out the other Rin, slumped inelegantly over the table and watching him, a pleasant glow to his cheeks that said he was impressed. 

"...There may be hope for you yet," was the sated comment, nearly drawled from mumbling lips, and Rin snorted, a ready reply on his own tongue—when there came the soft _snick_ of a lock uncatching and a voice from the genkan called:

"I'm home."

* * *

"...And he was gone when you woke up?"

A nod. "It could have happened right after I went to bed—or right before I woke, there's no way of knowing."

Rin seconded the nod, sipping his warm can of coffee judiciously and warming his frozen fingers on the piping hot steel can. "Well...I guess that's that."

"What's what?"

Rin cocked his head to the side—to find Haru staring at him, expression unreadable. "Just...that. It's over. He's back where he belongs now, I guess, and you can...you know. Get back to focusing on how delicious my wake's gonna taste when I smoke you in the 100-meter freestyle next weekend."

Haru frowned, protesting, "You've been able to practice every weekday, and I only get the odd weekend join pr—and _even so_ , that doesn't mean you're going to—" He cut himself off, lips pursing in irritation. "...You're changing the subject."

Rin shrugged, unconcerned with being caught. "I'm moving on. That's what we should do. That's..." He stared down at the can in his hand, tracing the bold letters of the logo with the tip of a finger. "Just because a guy pops out of your bathtub and says we're...something special, doesn't mean we have to pay any attention to him. Who knows—" He forced a smile. "Maybe it was just a fever dream brought on by some poorly prepared mackerel."

"You'll pay for that slight against my cooking next weekend."

"I look forward to it," he laughed, bumping Haru's shoulder good-naturedly with his own, and he took another sip. 

"For all the trouble it was..."

"Hm?" He glanced to the side again, finding Haru staring straight ahead at the setting sun sinking into the horizon and spilling its rays over the harbor in a brilliant splash of reds and purples and oranges. The chill was sharper out here on the pier they were currently occupying, but Rin had coffee warming his belly and Haru's comfortable bulk at his side, shielding him from the bite of the wind, so he was content to sit and watch the sun disappear below the horizon.

"For all the trouble it was...I think I didn't mind it. The past few days."

Rin snorted, nearly choking on a sip. "You? Who hates everything annoying? Who had his plans disrupted and his fridge raided—"

"—and my favorite shower gel used up—"

" _And_ his favorite shower gel used up— _you_ didn't mind it?"

Haru just shrugged, a soft, considering smile on his lips as he picked at a splinter in the wood of the pier. "It was trying at times, but... Mostly all I could think was—'This is what Rin looks like when he's in love with someone.'"

And now Rin actually _did_ choke on the sip he'd just taken, bile rising as he hacked and coughed. "You—geez, don't notice things like that."

Another shrug, just as unconcerned. "It was hard to ignore."

"Mm," Rin returned, unconvinced. "Well I looked totally lame, then—like a moon-eyed schoolgirl." When Haru only nodded his agreement, Rin pinched his arm, eliciting a soft hiss of pain and a glare of admonishment. He knocked back the last of his coffee, peering down into the can to see if it was really empty. "And that's so not fair."

"How so?"

"Well—you get to know _that_ , but I don't know what you look like when you're in..." He dithered, balking at the phrasing. "You know, when you...like someone." A long pause stretched between them, filled with the hissing of the tide and the distant cries of kites on the hunt. "Just, I don't think it's fair. That you've seen that side of me, but I've never seen that side of you..."

Beside him, Haru shifted—eventually, bracing his arms to help ease himself back into a standing position, and Rin worried he'd done it now, made an already uncomfortable situation _unbearable_. But then a hand extended into his field of vision, fingers open to offer aid, and he followed it up to Haru's face—and wondered, distantly, if this was what the other Rin's lightning looked like, because it sure as hell felt like taking that hand would stop his heart, as Haru returned evenly, "...Haven't you?"


End file.
